Fake Falling
by TheArtistPirate
Summary: In which Arthur learns that Merlin isn't really as clumsy as everyone believes.
1. Not Clumsy

**Hi Guys! So while I was watching Merlin, I realized that Merlin... really shouldn't be clumsy... like, it doesn't make sense. He runs around a lot and trains with Arthur and the knights and defeats bad guys ALL THE TIME. So I just thought of this little ficlet. I might do a part two for this if people want it, just let me know. :) **

**Also, side note, I got a tumblr! I'm going to put this on my bio too, but my tumblr is: theartistpirate .tumblr .com**

**It mostly has fandom stuff along with other cool artsy stuff, and I'll probably post my stories there too. **

**Anyway, enjoy the fic and review! **

**...**

Merlin really_ isn't_ clumsy. Of course, sometimes he is, but it's mostly because he's distracted by yet another threat on Arthur's life, or his magic's acting up again. Granted, he isn't the best swordsman, but he _can _use a sword. Having to train with the knights and go on hunting trips plays an important part in that—it would be ridiculous if Merlin didn't know how to properly defend himself. He's also very good at running, running away from Arthur's wrath, running away from angry sorcerer's, running away from Gaius and extra chores and running away from bandits.

Not to mention that he's very good at sneaking about—no one knows about this of course.

But the point is, he isn't as clumsy as people often think.

_However_, his "clumsiness" provides a great cover. No one, in their right mind, would assume that Merlin could do magic, let alone be a powerful warlock. And Merlin would be lying if he said that he doesn't enjoy playing things up a bit: falling here, knocking things down there and being obnoxiously loud while walking. He is never suspected of magic because everyone underestimates him.

Well, almost everyone.

…

It had all started when Merlin and Arthur had gone hunting, just the two of them. Uther had been particularly difficult concerning matters of the state and Arthur needed to get away before his blood pressure sky-rocketed. So while Arthur paced restlessly in his chambers and threw goblets around, shouting about how utterly _absurd_ it was for his father to raise the taxes _again_, Merlin had packed some essentials and the two went off into the woods.

Arthur walked through the trees silently, trying not to scare away the prey. He stepped lightly on solid ground, making sure not to let even the smallest of sounds, and he applauded himself for being so good at it.

Merlin, on the other hand, was purposely stomping around, crunching leaves, tripping over roots, and generally creating a ruckus. Arthur _knew_ that Merlin opposed to hunting animals and more often than not, their "hunting trips" were unsuccessful because of him. But at the same time, Arthur was unsure that Merlin was even capable of being stealthy.

The first five times they went hunting together, Arthur had asked Merlin, "Is it necessary to scare everything within Camelot's border away with all that racket?" Merlin had responded with a shrug and had tramped around _even_ louder with an infuriating smirk on his face.

Because he realized that no amount of nagging could make Merlin _less _useless, Arthur would normally just sigh a lot and let his bumbling idiot of a manservant follow behind him. This time, it seemed, wouldn't be different than the others.

"_Arthur_!" Merlin's whispered harshly from behind him, his disjointed footsteps coming to a stop, allowing Arthur to finally, _finally_, hear the peace and quiet of the forest around him. Arthur turned and saw his manservant smiling slightly with his head cocked to the side. Without a sound (which, needless to say, startled Arthur indefinitely) Merlin put down their hunting gear and put a silent finger to his lips before waltzing away.

_Waltzing_.

That was the only word Arthur could think of as he watched his usually-noisy manservant gliding effortlessly through the trees as easily as if he were sweeping a lady off her feet at a ball. The leaves barely crunched beneath his feet as he leapt through the vegetation and Arthur stumbled to keep up, wondering what Merlin was up to. When he finally caught up (how in the world had Merlin got there so fast?) Arthur found Merlin crouching behind some trees looking into a clearing.

Arthur stepped gingerly, crouching down next to Merlin and turned to see what his manservant was looking at.

At first, Arthur assumed it was a unicorn, having seen one not too long ago, but there was something different about this majestic equestrian creature.

"It's a Pegasus." Merlin whispered softly. He pointed to the white creature, "His wings are folded. Gauis says they are very rare—even rarer than unicorns."

"Really?" Arthur looked at it again, wondering how an animal so big would manage to fly. Almost as if it could hear his thoughts, the Pegasus spread its white wings tarnished with bronze feathers and continued to graze nonchalantly. "It's magnificent." Arthur whispered in awe, because while he enjoyed hunting, he did appreciate beautiful animals when he saw them.

"You think we can get closer?" Merlin said excitedly. Arthur's mouth twitched at Merlin's childish excitement and nodded. He rose and took a step, wincing when a stick snapped beneath his foot. The Pegasus immediately stilled, eyes wandering around the glade. The prince and servant both held their breath, but the damage was done. The Pegasus had spotted them and it bolted, leaping into the air as its large wings made the creature airborne.

The two boys watched as the white Pegasus blended in with the clouds above them.

"Really Arthur?" Merlin said petulantly, throwing his arms in the air, "Is it necessary to scare everything within Camelot's border away with all that racket?" and proceeded to stomp away as loudly as possible.

…

Merlin is a lazy sod.

Or that's what Arthur thinks. He's always late. He's late to wake him up (although Arthur doesn't mind that, he's definitely not a morning person) always late with his dinner, always late with delivering messages… and that barely scratches the surface.

Arthur has come to the conclusion that it is because Merlin is _so slow_. More often than naught he finds Merlin loitering in the kitchens or meandering through the corridors with not a care in the world.

When asked, Merlin usually replied with a, "When I run, I trip over things. You know. Clumsy me." With a smile before sauntering away at an _excruciatingly_ slow pace.

Arthur was proven wrong the day before his twenty fifth birthday. Every year he has a dinner celebration, which, if he was being completely honest, bored him terribly. But every year (since Merlin), he received a gift from the servants and knights and every year it was something… well something he would actually want.

The gifts ranged from ornate daggers to his favorite exotic foods and this year, Arthur waited patiently to receive his gift. Well, he tried to. Arthur is not known for being patient (Merlin knows, having been the target for flying dishes almost every day).

The day before his birthday Arthur walked to Gaius' chambers to talk to him about a tonic he would surely need for before the feast, lest he fall asleep.

Knocking on the door, Arthur said, "Gaius, its Arthur. May I come in?" He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard some shuffling and a muffled curse before the old man himself opened the door with a strained smile, "Arthur, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I was wondering if you have the tonic… for tomorrow." Arthur said, suspicions rising when he heard a slight snicker from the corner of the room.

"Ahh... Of course. I am sorry Sire but I don't have it made yet." Gaius said hesitantly, still blocking the doorway.

Narrowing his eyes, Arthur replied, "Right. Then I suppose I'll come later."

"I suppose Sire." Gaius did not budge from his spot. Arthur decided it was time for him to employ a different tactic. Spotting a beaker on one of the tables smoking, he gasped, "Gaius! Is that beaker supposed to overflow and bubble like that?" Gaius' eyes widened as he turned inside to look at the beaker, noticing too late when Arthur slipped in. Looking around he saw Gwaine huddled in one corner and Leon, Percival and Elyan in another. Gwen was standing by the door behind him clutching a cloth parcel to her chest with all her might.

"What… is going on?" Arthur asked slowly, eyes lingering on the package in her hands. "Is that my birthday gift?"

"No…" Gwen said unconvincingly, in a dash Arthur reached toward the small package. Panicked, Gwen threw the package toward Gwaine who threw it to Elyan and soon they were playing a rather odd game of monkey in the middle.

It was when Leon overestimated Percival's height that the package landed behind him, away from everyone's reach, at the base of the door. And of course, that was the moment Merlin decided to grace everyone with his presence. Taking in the scene around him and the package at the door, Merlin picked it up.

"What's this then?" He asked no one in particular, holding the parcel in his hands and looking it over.

"Merlin! I order you to give that package to me!" Arthur said, in his most royal voice. He then realized that that wasn't the best thing to say, because Merlin, ever the useless servant, _never _listened to Arthur's orders. Flashing a grin (an _evil_ grin, Arthur would insist) Merlin turned on his heels and ran. Arthur was out the door in a second, leaving the protesting voices behind him.

Arthur thought he would catch Merlin rather quickly, he was clumsy after all, and incredibly slow. But he was surprised at his manservant's deftness. Merlin took quick strides and twirled around servants walking down the halls. Arthur, less elegantly, ran after him, pushing people aside, apologizing profusely as he went along.

As they approached the upper village, he saw Merlin jump over baskets and weave through stalls and Arthur did everything he could to keep Merlin in sight. When they finally reached the edge of the lower village to the open field, Arthur knew that Merlin meant to go to the woods. What he didn't realize was that Merlin would _sprint_ the entire way across disappearing into the edge of the forest minutes later.

By this time, Arthur was already out of breath and his lungs felt as if they would explode. He waved Merlin off and turned back to the village.

He didn't want his birthday present early _that _bad.

…

Sometimes Arthur wondered how it was possible that he, the finest knight in Camelot, had managed to knock himself out more often than Merlin. Arthur had been doing the math in his head all day—Merlin went with him on every hunting trip and every quest. Not to mention that Arthur had made it a habit to haul as much silverware at the manservant's head as possible.

It really was impossible that Merlin had never been knocked out.

Merlin says it's because he's good at ducking—he has had years to master it after all. Gaius believes that Merlin is just plain lucky.

Guinevere says it's because Arthur has bad aim.

Arthur then decides that he subconsciously doesn't want to hit his manservant (friend), and therefore misses every time.

But when he tries to intentionally hit Merlin with a water pitcher the next morning, Merlin deftly moves out of the way and Arthur is at a loss to explain the anomaly that is Merlin.


	2. Clumsy

**Hi Guys! I had a plot for the second chapter and I knew how I wanted to write it, but when I wrote it... I didn't like how it came out. But I figured that I would post it anyway because I'm too lazy to go back and rewrite the entire thing, especially since I have a ton of other plot bunnies bouncing around. :) **

**Btw, disclaimer: I don't remember whether Arthur ever managed to hit Merlin with a goblet (or whatever he throws across the room), so for this fic, just pretend that he didn't. **

**Review replies! **

**guardianofdragonlore: Lol, very true! **

**Bitten Nails: Thank you! You're very sweet!**

**darkynstars: Awww! Thank you! I love their friendship too (who doesn't?)! Here's the second chapter since you asked so nicely!**

**Rachelle Lo: Thanks! I feel like Merlin had the potential to be so much lighter, so instead of drowning in the angst of the last season, I decided to outlet my need for humor into fanfiction. :P**

**wazka098: Lol, thank you. :) **

**In any case, here it is! Enjoy! If you guys have any requests, feel free to let me know. I need to write more, and the more ideas I have, the more I will write!**

**Chapter Two**

That was when Arthur started watching Merlin.

The night air was chilly and the knights and Merlin had all just finished their dinner and settled around the fire. Light still penetrated through the leaves on the trees from the setting sun, but already, the fire was waning.

Arthur poked the dying flames with his sword and watched as the embers sparked before fading. Arthur spied Percival rubbing his arms, his cloak did nothing to protect him from the frigid air.

"Merlin!" Arthur called, "The fires going out."

Merlin looked up from his conversation with Gwaine and his eyes darted to the fire and back to Arthur. Slowly, as if talking to a child, he said, "Yes Arthur, the fire _is_ going out."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Yes, then you wouldn't mind getting some more wood."

"I'd rather not, I'm very comfortable right here." Merlin said smiling. When all that was returned was Arthur's unamused expression, Merlin sighed and dusted off his pants. Making a show, Merlin huffed and narrowed his eyes before walking into the trees to gather more wood.

After a few moments Gwaine stood up, "I'd better go help him."

"You're right," Leon said approvingly, "Merlin has a knack for tripping over things."

Elyan piped in, "Not to mention how slow he is, he won't be back until morning!"

The knights laughed and someone jabbed at Merlin's inability to use a sword and how Merlin drops things all the time.

But really, all Arthur could think about was what had happened earlier today. Their most recent quest had taken them to a fight against Morgana's men—as usual. And as usual, Merlin disappeared, Morgana's men were somehow thwarted and Arthur ended up with barely his life and a pounding headache.

He didn't know how these things were connected, but he knew that Merlin played an integral part in _whatever _was happening.

Arthur had been watching him, under the impression that his manservant wouldn't be able to get to safety and help himself. However, what he found was rather startling. While Arthur defended himself against a brute of a man, he saw in the corner of his eye, Merlin moving through the clearing toward the trees to disappear again.

The important part was that Merlin had somehow managed to get himself through the clearing. The clearing in which about a dozen of Arthur's knights and Morgana's men were fighting, magic against swords against swords. It was astounding how Merlin succeeded in avoiding being thrown by an invisible force and simultaneously tripping men as he ducked their plunging swords.

Five minutes after Merlin disappeared off into the woods, several of Morgana's men fell down, others were hit by tree branches (Arthur couldn't even fathom how that happened) and one by one they started going down. And once they were all gone, Merlin jogged in, looking sheepish, but grinning childishly nonetheless.

Arthur wasn't stupid. Obviously Merlin was doing something. He just couldn't figure out what. Did he throw rocks at them? Did he purposely climb trees and make the branches fall? There were a number of reasonable and unreasonable ideas that Arthur had, but he wasn't certain of any of them.

There was one thing he did know—he and his knights were alive because of Merlin.

Never again would Arthur underestimate him.

"…isn't that right Arthur?" Arthur blinks out of his thoughts and faces towards the knights, their faces flushed with laughter. "Merlin must be one of the clumsiest people we know."

Arthur stared at them for a moment before a chuckle escaped him, soon becoming full-blown laughter. The knights looked at him curiously.

"I don't think we got the joke mate." Gwaine said, "Why're you laughing?"

Breathing deeply and stifling his laughter, Arthur responded, "You think Merlin's clumsy."

There was a silence over the campfire before Leon supplied, "He is clumsy, Sire."

"No, he really isn't."

"He's so loud on hunting trips—" Elyan said.

"Because he doesn't want us to catch anything." Arthur countered calmly. The knights quietly assented before Percival piped in, "But he's so slow!"

"Have you seen how fast he runs when the cook makes dumplings?" Arthur scoffed.

"Well… those are really good dumplings." Gwaine said, smacking his lips at the thought of food.

Leon said, "He always gets hurt."

Arthur didn't even bother to respond to that and just raised an eyebrow.

"Holy apples and gravy…" Gwaine muttered and then said more loudly, "Merlin's not clumsy!"

…

Something was very wrong. Merlin had noticed that since the last outing, the knights had been treating him differently. Normally, after training sessions, Percival and Gwaine helped Merlin carry the training materials back to the armory, but nowadays, they just clapped him on the back and said, "I'm sure you can handle it yourself" before walking away.

But that wasn't it.

Usually, Elyan would find Merlin just after noon and sneak him a pastry from the kitchen saying, "By the time you got down, they would all be gone". But Elyan hadn't come to give him lunch in a while.

Leon stopped going easy on him at practice.

Arthur was throwing things at him nonstop.

Merlin knew that between saving Arthur from angry sorcerers, fulfilling his manservant duties and helping Gaius, he needed all the help he could get. He wasn't ashamed in saying that he needed help, in fact he welcomed it, and let the knights know how much he appreciated it.

He knew that it was his responsibility to do all these things, but for some reason it still hurt that his friends had decided to abruptly turn their back on him. It was almost like all the knights had decided to gang up on him and Merlin would be angry if he wasn't _so exhausted_.

But he couldn't _complain_. It _was_ his job and he had to fulfill his duties regardless of whether anyone helped him or not. So he carried on doing his chores, saving Arthur from being poisoned (again) and gathering a gross amount of herbs for Gaius.

It went on like this for several weeks. Little by little, Merlin slept slightly later or woke a little earlier to catch up on chores that he needed to accomplish, and the lack of sleep began to build up on him. It was a bitter morning when Gaius had asked Merlin to gather some _Frankincense _from the edge of the forest and Merlin lazily trotted through the forest, hacking off the resin from the trees surrounding him and putting it in a special cloth sack Gaius had given him.

Only when Merlin nearly tripped over his feet did he realize that he had been in such a daze that he had managed to wander deep into the forest. He didn't know where he was.

Many false leads later, Merlin gave up and used his magic sight to help him get back to Camelot, deliver the frankincense to Gaius and gather Arthur's lunch. As he walked up the stairs carefully balancing the tray in his hands he was startled by a friendly shout from Gwaine—causing him to drop all the food down the front of his shirt. Merlin watch forlornly as a chicken drumstick rolled down the steps while Gwaine winced. "Sorry mate, I didn't realize I'd scare you."

"Its fine Gwaine, I'll just get another lunch for his royal pratness." Merlin said with a sad smile.

"I just wanted to tell you that the princess will be eating lunch with the rest of the knights today in the dining hall, so you might want to bring his lunch there." Gwaine said, a crease slowly forming between his eyebrows.

"Of course," Merlin muttered, "I'd best be off then." He said before reaching down to gather the fallen food. After everything was in the tray, Merlin rushed back to the kitchens and exchanged the lunch (while the cook threatened him with a ladle) and managed to make his way to the dining hall.

"_Mer_lin! Care to explain why you are so late today?" Arthur asked as Merlin burst through the doors, tray in hand. He placed the tray in front of Arthur and found that Gwaine had managed to sit between Percival and Elyan.

"I had a little incident, that's all." Merlin said, too tired to think of a retort. "Do you require anything else or can I leave, _sire_?"

Scrunching his eyebrows, Arthur picked up the goblet nearest to him and chucked it at Merlin's head, just as Merlin had reached down to grab the pitcher.

Filled with red wine.

Too groggy to even comprehend what had just happened, the goblet hit Merlin square on the forehead, and he fell backward, spilling the dark red liquid on the knights around him and on the papers littering the table. Rubbing his head, Merlin vaguely heard a "_Bloody Hell, Merlin mate, you alright?"_, but instead of responding, Merlin chose to succumb to the darkness already threatening to take over his vision.

Arthur immediately rose, his jaw hanging open in shock. _Never_, in almost the decade that he knew Merlin, was he ever actually able to hit Merlin with whatever-it-was-he-threw-at-him. Looking down at Merlin, whose unconscious body was surrounded by Gwaine and several other knights, Arthur instantly felt guilty and made his way to kneel down next to Merlin.

"Merlin you idiot! Wake up!" Arthur said, softly slapping his manservant's cheek. All the knights were murmuring to each other, because in all honesty, none of them had ever seen Merlin _asleep_ much less unconscious.

"What just happened?" Leon asked, concerned. "Merlin usually ducks!"

"Maybe he's not feeling well." Gwaine proposed, "I saw him today and he tripped on the stairs and dropped your lunch. That's why he was late."

"Why did he trip?" Leon asked, raising an eyebrow, not unlike Gaius' trademark expression.

"I dunno! I just said, 'Hey Merlin!' and he fell."

Arthur listened, his brows knitted confusedly as he turned toward his unconscious manservant. While the fact that Merlin had tripped for no reason was mildly concerning, right now, Arthur was more concerned with the fact that Merlin had allowed his face to be used as a target! "Why didn't you duck you _clumsy_ oaf?"

At that, the entire room became silent.

"Holy apples and gravy…" Gwaine muttered and then said more loudly, "Merlin's clumsy!"

…

The days following the "incident" Merlin was pleased to find that everyone had resumed helping him. Regardless of the bruise that had formed in the middle of his forehead, Merlin found himself wishing that he _had_ been knocked out earlier, so that he wouldn't have had to endure that tiring week.

In any case, Merlin was glad. It was much easier trying to save Arthur when he had a decent amount of sleep the night before.

For example, in the week that followed, a group of nobles came to visit Arthur's court. It turned out, they were actually assassins (what a surprise). While at the meeting table, Lord Your-father-killed-my-brother had taken a throwing dagger and aimed for Arthur's neck. With reflexes no one knew he had, Merlin reached forward and caught the dagger just inches away from Arthur's throat, the blade fixed between his middle and pointer finger without drawing blood.

Immediately the guards had taken the noble away as he screamed treason. Merlin sighed in relief and noticed Arthur gaping at him. Merlin narrowed his eyes before saying, "I think the words you are looking for are 'Thank you for saving my life Merlin. I'd be dead without you Merlin. Would you like a day off?'"

When Arthur replied by dropping his jaw even lower (because Arthur realized that Merlin was _right_, he _would_ be dead without him), Merlin rolled his eyes. "Really you prat? You aren't even going to say thank you? I stopped a dagger from impaling your throat!"

Arthur started, "You…?" He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hand. "I just… You were… and then you weren't… and now you are…? I just don't know any more Merlin. I just don't!" Arthur spluttered before walking away with a bewildered expression on his face.

Merlin was equally as dumbfounded. What was that all about?

Shrugging, he walked away, whistling as he flipped the dagger in his hand.


End file.
